Talam Dua Muka
by Nyx Aerin
Summary: Assassin's endgame. AU. GrimmIchi.
1. Bab 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. I do, however, own this story.

* * *

He took a deep breath and glanced out the window. The speech was still going on, as the man standing on the podium continued to inflame the crowd by yelling out profanities against the government.

He looked at his watch. 3.10 pm. Renji would be there in 5 minutes, and they could whisk off at a moment's notice after the job was done. His employer had stressed the need for punctuality, but he didn't have to. Ichigo was never late.

3.11.

"The government sucks!" The man screamed. "They take our money and spend it on themselves. And WE, SHOULD, STOP, THEM!" The crowd cheered as the man –Tamura Yoshino, a popular candidate in the upcoming elections- punctuated his statement with gestures. Rude ones. Supporters were flying banners that said 'Government suck dick' and 'Say no to Government, say yes to freedom!'

Ichigo pulled the curtains close.

3.12.

Ichigo began checking his equipment and tried to remember if he had left any traces behind. He had paid for the room with cash and used a false name, carrying his equipment in a nondescript black case. He had always worn gloves when in the room and he was sure he hadn't brought anything other than the case. He grabbed his black baseball cap and jammed it over his orange hair, before looking across the room at a mirror to ensure he was presentable. Finally he donned a pair of Calvin Klein sunglasses, a gift from Rukia.

3.13.

The crowd was getting raucous, yelling and stomping their feet so hard Ichigo thought he could feel the vibrations in the small room. His hip seemed to be vibrating more and when the crowd died down a little he realized it was the burbling of his handphone in his jeans. He picked it up. "Kurosaki."

"Hey, it's me. Get a load of this, man. Never seen such a happy crowd before." Renji sounded excited. "Are you ready?"

"Hmmm, almost." 3.14. "Okay, see you in a minute."

"Got it. Bye."

Ichigo put the phone back into his pocket and knelt on the floor, picking up the .22 caliber gun. He had chosen it because it was inconspicuous and with the right aim, it didn't make too much mess. Byakuya had particularly stressed about the amount of mess he could make. Employer's orders, he said. Don't freak the crowd.

He pushed the gun through the curtains and watched the man preach, aiming his gun. Sitting on the stage a bit behind were some government servants who seemed to be stewing while the man sprouted accusation after accusation at them. He squinting and shifted the gun slightly, aiming for the man's forehead.

His watch alarm started to ring.

_3.15_.

He pulled the trigger.

The man had been calm, gazing stonily at Mr. Profanity of the Year preaching on stage. At the last moment, Ichigo swore that his gaze shifted to the window as bullet tore through his head.

He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a smirk pass over Yoshino's face before he ducked back into the room, jammed the gun into his back pocket, grabbed the briefcase and started running.

He could hear the crowd screaming. And over it, he could hear some people screaming, "The ambassador! He's shot! THE AMBASSADOR!"

3.16.

He ran out the back as the owner of the hotel ran out the front, trying to see what the commotion was about. He ducked through several alleys before coming out into a nearby street and jumped into a red car that had been idling by the curb.

"Hey, Ichigo," Renji greeted him. "All set?"

He thought briefly of Yoshino's smirk.

"Yeah. Let's go."

* * *

The man turned out to be China's ambassador, Li Wang Fei, who had decided to join the election campaign incognito. However, he had not been so incognito after all, considering that he was now dead.

Ichigo listened to the news as he shaved the next morning. China was condemning Japan over the murder while Yoshino gleefully declared about the government's inadequacies and weaknesses. Ichigo was fairly sure he knew who the employer was, now.

But it didn't matter. He was getting paid handsomely for this one, and he sure wouldn't be losing any sleep over it.

* * *

Grimmjaw Jeagerjacques was going to be losing a lot of sleep now.

Since some damn _goddamn_ dickhead had shot the Chinese ambassador, the president, Aizen-bastard-Sousuke, had wasted no time rousing up the secret service. However, that was the problem. They were so secret, the president –and only the president- had a direct contact number to them, and that was why they were assembled in an anonymous hotel room on the other side of town from Parliament at two a.m. in the morning.

The secret service of Japan was not like the USA's idea of it. They were ten –just ten- highly trained assassins, trained in everything from jujitsu to tae kwon do and could shoot everything from a rubber band to a 1957 mortar gun. They performed all the president's 'dirty work'.

They were pledged to serve the president and were mostly chosen from prison inmates who had no choice but to serve or die by lethal injection. Grimmjaw had been one of them, which accounted for his deep resentment again Aizen.

They sat in the room in silence. They mostly went about their civilian lives separately, uninvolved with each other. They were not encouraged to make contact unless on a mission, like now. Only Halibel and Noitora had any kind of relationship out of their secret service life.

Grimmjaw picked at the collar of his shirt. He had dressed in a rush but he still looked good, he knew that. He wasn't being arrogant, it was just the self-assurance that came with knowing that you were extremely attractive and others were not. As it was, he would have to buy another shirt. This one was so fitting that he had to loosen the top two buttons or they would have popped off.

Across the room, a projector flickered into life and Aizen's image was superimposed on the white wall. He gazed calmly down at them. _Fuck you, Mr. President._

"Well, I'm sure you're all aware of the reason you're being assembled, so I will get on with the matter." He changed to his 'serious' look. "We must find the gunman who shot Wang Fei. The press is having a field day and Yoshino is parading his lies about, taking advantage of it."

Syazel spoke. "Isn't it obvious that he ordered the murder?"

Aizen smiled beatifically. "The people will not believe this without solid proof. So it is your job to find it."

_Fucker_, Grimmjaw thought dourly.

"I have already assigned duties to each of you. Listen carefully."

"Syazel, you will use the internet to try and track down any possible clues or rumors that are spreading about. Grimmjaw and Ulquiorra are to go to Karakura and try to discover more clues about this gunman. I will brief you more later. Noitora, Halibel, Yammi and Stark will be assigned to guard various ambassadors who may be targets. They are very anxious about their safety."

He paused, then continued. "You may leave to perform your respective duties. Grimmjaw, Ulquiorra, stay behind."

The rest of them filed out the room. Grimmjaw waited impatiently. What he wanted was to find the bastard, smash his head and go back to his life.

When they were alone, Aizen began to brief them. "On the 15 of April, a man walked into the Sakura Hotel and booked a room on the first floor for the twelfth of May. On the assigned day, which was yesterday, he came in at 2 p.m. and went straight up to his room, carrying a nondescript black case. An hour and a half later, Wang Fei was shot."

"The man is tall, over six feet, has a well-built figure and has a healthy complexion. The hotel manager's daughter recalls seeing him and says he was very good looking." Aizen smiled. "Here's a valuable clue- he was wearing a hat when he came in, so she couldn't tell his hair colour, but she saw him entering the emergency staircase at a quarter past two. She says he had conspicuous orange hair. On top of that, he has hazel eyes and a pierced ear. Shouldn't be very hard to find."

"Uh-huh," Grimmjaw said disgustedly. "Ya' know 'ow many hoodlums out there have orange hair, pierced ears and brown eyes?"

"Not many, I hope, Grimmjaw-san."

Ulquiorra spoke. "We will do our best, Aizen-san."

"Of course, Ulquiorra. I expect nothing less."

"Fuck it," Grimmjaw muttered. "Fuck it all."

He would find the boy quickly. These kinds of jobs were for babies. And when he found the boy, he would make the fucking bastard pay for disturbing his life.

Grimmjaw smirked. This could be fun.

* * *

Tell me what you think, please. Constructive criticism accepted.


	2. Rahsia

They were instructed to apply for senior positions at the Karaku Inc. human rights organization, an organization that was openly supported by Yoshino. Insiders planted in the company reported that they had seen several suspicious-looking 'buisness' dealings going on, but they had been unable to locate any solid proof so far.

Grimmjaw hoped to find it.

Their interview was conducted by a pretty, petite woman whose name was Sukihana Hotabe. She was one of the insiders, given instructions to hire Grimmjaw and Ulquiorra specifically. She was, basically, a double-faced agent.

Sukihana told them that the dealings usually took place at night, but that she had no idea what went on in the meetings. She added, however, that Yoshino frequently attended these late night meetings in a password restricted CCTV controlled room.

Grimmjaw was assigned, under the fake name Takashi Kyoyama, to work with a young man named Abarai Renji, whose bright red hair often made him the target of jokes in the office. Ulquiorra was assigned to work with a prim-looking gentleman named Ishida Uryu, who Grimmjaw privately thought had the worst dress sense he had ever seen. Even Ulquiorra -fake name Youou Hatoran- wore stylish if plain clothing. Every single stitch of clothing that Uryu owned had blue crosses on them. At least he was not as conspicuous as Abarai.

Grimmjaw was supposed to help Renji arrange financial aid for diseased and war-stricken countries. This was clearly not his idea of a job, as he did not give two shits about Zimbabwe or Sierra Leone or Israel or whatever goddamn country other than his own. However, he did his best, cutting corners whenever Abarai wasn't looking. He suspected that some people in those desolated countries would be finding money a little bit more harder to come by.

After a week, they had discovered nothing.

Sure, Abarai willingly told him everything he needed to know, but nothing that he _wanted_ to know. There was not a single employee in the building who had orange hair and not a single male employee that had pierced ears. If there were any clues, Grimmjaw thought sourly, they were not in the Karaku building, at least.

The only bright side to this affair was that he got a couple of good fucks.

Within three weeks, he managed to screw every hot chick in the building, and a few of the better looking guys as well. Ulquiorra merely rolled his eyes every time Grimmjaw returned to their shared apartment with the sweat still fresh in his hair and his lips still red -which was practically every night. He had fun, but he didn't fuck any of them more than once.

The only person it didn't cross his mind to screw was Abarai, which almost caused him to miss a very valuable clue.

However, he had noticed that Abarai had started looking at him oddly. After thinking for a while, he deduced that Abarai wanted to get into his pants and obliged, one late night, if not for any other reason that pure boredom.

Grimmjaw never like after-sex chats -he preferred to scram before they started getting attached- but now he usually listened to them for awhile to try and glean any information he could. Before, he had gotten nothing other that a list of other companies and organizations that Yoshino supported. He had expected Abarai to be no different.

He was wrong.

"You know, man, no one actually knows that I'm gay. My best friend, Rukia, she wouldn't believe it."

"Rukia?" Grimmjaw was buttoning his shirt back up; he decided to stay five minutes before going off to drown himself in alcohol at some bar.

"She's my childhood friend. She's real pretty, black hair and violet eyes. Her brother owns the Kuchiki Tech company."

Kuchiki Tech, Grimmjaw recalled, was an advanced technology company that was worth millions. Ulquiorra himself preferred to use their equipment over any other.

"And you should see _her _best friend." Renji laughed, cupping his hands in front of his chest. Grimmjaw felt like punching him in the face. "You were asking about orange-heads, right?"

He was instantly alerted. "Yeah. Why?"

"The girl, well, she's got the biggest tits you've ever seen. Her hair is as orange as a mandarin. In fact, you'll find more orange-headed people there than anywhere else."

"What'dya mean?"

Abarai frowned. "Well, there's Inoue, Matsumoto, and Ichigo. All orange heads if I've ever seen them."

Che. All girls. Grimmjaw stifled a snarl as he stood up. "Gotta go, Abarai. Can't listen to you talking 'bout girls the whole night."

"Hey, where 'ya going? Ya know, I know the name Ichigo sounds like a sissy, but actually..."

"Away," he muttered before walking away from where Abarai was still sprawled on the floor, half-naked. Renji frowned after him. "Idiot," he muttered. "Didn't even wait to listen." He tilted his head back and laughed. "Ichi'll blow when he hears Takashi thought he was a girl."

Outside, Grimmjaw lit a cigarrette and sucked deeply. That was one -good-for-nothing fuck. All he had gotten was a list of orange headed chicks who were reputed to have big tits.

On the other hand, there weren't many with that hair colour. Although he thought that it was highly likely that the man who shot Wang Fei had probably dyed his hair, it was worth a shot. One of the girls might have a brother who matched the description. As a bonus, Kuchiki Tech was also publicly backed up by Yoshino, who declared the company as 'one of the modern marvels of the technology world.'

Tomorrow, he'd tell Ulquiorra to apply for a transfer. All it would take was for him to hack into company computers and do a bit of fiddling.

Grimmjaw bared his teeth. Yes, he would do that.

* * *

Ichigo bared his teeth at the papers, scowling deeply. Presently his scowl was covered by an almost sad look that evaporated like morning dew as Inoue emerged from Byakuya's office, looking downcast.

"Hey, Inoue," Ichigo greeted her. "What's wrong?"

Inoue stepped into his office, smiling slightly. "Oh, it's nothing much, Kurosaki-kun..." she trailed off. She approached the table, and Ichigo hastily flipped the documents on his table. "It's just that Byakuya-kun wouldn't approve my application for a raise."

Ichigo frowned. "Why not?"

"He says that my work is very consistent, neat and well done, but that's all it is - consistent. He said that I haven't shown any marked progress and so I'm not really qualified for a raise..."

"Oh." Ichigo contemplated this briefly before something struck him. "Why do you need a raise?"

"Uh, well, you see, someone close to me is very ill. He needs specialist treatment in the United States to cure his disease because it's so rare."

"Oh, Inoue, I'm so sorry. Who is it?"

To his surprise, Inoue turned bright red. "Ah, well, it's... it's my brother. I'm so worried."

"I'll do whatever I can to help, Inoue-"

"No!" she said a bit too sharply. Ichigo stared at her, taken aback. "I'm sorry, Kurosaki-kun," she continued, softening her voice. "It's just that I have my pride, and this is something I have to do on my own. I hope you understand."

Ichigo considered. "Alright, Inoue. I understand. Pride is very important, and I'll respect your wishes."

Inoue smiled. "Thank you for understanding, Kurosaki-kun."

"Of course, Inoue. Is there anything else?"

"No, I have some work to do." She left the office. Ichigo stared after her, frowning. She was acting funny... But although the news of her brother was startling, he had an even more important matter to think of. He flipped the documents on his table and continued reading, his eyes darkening.

* * *

Everyone had been surprised when Ichigo decided to take up computer science in university, bbut perhaps the person most surprised was Ichigo himself. He honestly thought that he was going to major in medicine, like his father, rather than follow his mother's footsteps. But he excelled in the subject, and upon graduating was promptly accepted to work in Kuchiki Tech after managing to hack -with permission- through Byakuya's security's systems. Masaki Kurosaki had been so proud, Ichigo was sure it was worth it.

Now, at twenty-three years old, he was a senior officer in the company, designing anti-virus software and helping to design computer games as well. In his spare time he hacked into Interpol and CIA just for the fun of it, although his mother dissaproved of it. "No, Ichi," she'd say. "Don't go looking for trouble." Then she would mutter, "It never has trouble looking for you," and they would laugh, the whole family, because hacking was a part of the family buisness just as much as killing was.

Yamamoto Genryuusai-Shigekuni was the head of the underground assassin group known as the Shinigami, which Ichigo thought sounded really dumb but never said so, being well-versed in the art of survival. They were the elite, the God of the underground, and no mafia group in the city -hell, in Japan- would dare mess with them. An interesting note was that all the best assassins were Yamamoto's own relatives, his nephews and nieces and grandchildren and all that. Ichigo's father was his nephew, and Byakuya was his son. Others like Inoue and Renji and Ishida could all claim some kind of distant relation to him as well.

Kuchiki Tech, Karaku Inc and other Yamamoto-owned organizations was a way for the assassins to balance an ordinary life with their secret life without going destitute. Although the profession paid lavishly, you did not get orders to kill everyday.

Ichigo heard that Yamamoto had been dissapointed when Ichigo's father didn't want to take up the family profession. A gentle -if crazy-minded man- man, he had opted for medicine, seeking to cure lives rather than destroy them. His idea -which he drilled endlessly into his son and two daughters- was that every one, every person, was a brother or sister, a wife or husband, a father or mother, a daughter or son. Although Ichigo could understand, he found that it didn't agree too well with his lifestyle and decided not to think too much about it.

On the other hand, his wife, Masaki Kurosaki, embraced the life, turning into a crack shot and master assassin. She shot even better than Ichigo, who could pop a target at two hundred yards, three hundred with a laser sight. Karin had expressed interest in learning as well, but Yuzu was too gentle to kill. Ichigo personally thought it was for the best.

* * *

"Ah, Kurosaki-san, you have to approve this." Hanataro, a shy young office boy, was pushing a document at him.

"Ah, Hanataro-kun," Ichigo mimicked him, making him flush. Ichigo laughed. "What is it?"

"This is the list Inoue-san gave me, it's the list of employees transfering from Karaku Inc. to here. Two new people."

Ichigo took the list and studied it. They regularly transferred employees from other companies to Kuchiki Tech to familiarize them with the workings of the high tech technology which was supplied for free to every Yamamoto-owned organization.

He read out the first name on the list.

"Takashi Kyoyama."

* * *

Oh, should I keep Grimmjaw like that? I feel like he's sleeping with too many people, but on the other hand it's just how I imagine him. He's hardly a pious, God-fearing chastity-loving man.

Review, please.


	3. Adik Tersayang

The next day, Sukihana Hotabe came out of her office. "I have an announcement to make," she called out.

"Takashi-san, Youou-san, your applications for a transfer have been approved. You will be transferred to the headquaters of Kuchiki Tech tomorrow."

* * *

Grimmjaw smirked. The astonished expressions on their soon-to-be former colleagues was almost worth the trouble of being moved to another company.

For Ulquiorra, it was just a pushover to hack into the system. However, he was 'impressed', or so he told Grimmjaw, that the system's defense against hackers was better than most.

Still hadn't posed a problem though.

As they were moving tomorrow, Aizen had instructed Grimmjaw to search the offices for any documents or clues they might have missed. Grimmjaw seriously thought about ignoring him -they had clearly seen that there was nothing left- but in the end he decided it wasn't worth the risk. It was just another break-in to do. Hell, he didn't even have to break in, he worked there.

He stayed late that night with Ulquiorra. After the last person had left, Ulquiorra manipulated the security cameras from his desktop computer, making it seem that no-one was on their floor. Then he left to leave Grimmjaw with his task.

Grimmjaw started with Renji's table, working slowly around the floor. Then he picked the lock on the door of Hotabe's office and the office of her boss, Toshiro Hitsugaya. Suddenly he stopped. He could swear he heard something. He turned around and ran his gaze over the room, and seeing nothing, he continued with the task at hand.

Soon he was rifling through Hitsugaya's papers. There was nothing important, there were all papers on various tragedies happening in various countries. Then he picked up an innocent-looking envelope titled 'Inter-office Memo'.

Inside was a short hand-written letter written nearly a week ago, titled, 'Finished'.

'Toshiro,' it said,

'It's been done. I saw in the news it's raising hell in parliament, and we got the bastards scrambling after their tails, ne? But I think I gotta take a break for awhile, lay low. Just in case. Tell the old man, won't you?

PS. When are you moving back here? Matsumoto misses you, and Hinamori is melancholy. It's more raucous here, and I'd kill for some stability. Namely you.

Yours,

Ichigo.'

Grimmjaw frowned, but he didn't get the opportunity to analyze the letter as a bullet whizzed pass his head.

Training kicked in; smoothly, he whirled around, dropping into a crouch while stuffing the letter into his back pocket and pulling a gun out of the other. He raised his gun.

_Click._

The office was plunged into darkness.

Damn! He instantly squeezed his eyes shut; it was a dangerous move with a gunman in the room but it was even more dangerous to stumble around blind. He opened them, the office was pitch-black. He got up and moved cautiously out.

Despite the danger, his heart was calm and he allowed a feral smirk to pass his face. This was why he loved this job sometimes, the thrill and adrenaline that came out of stalking and killing your prey. He might have been the prey, but his attacker lost the advantage when they turned off the lights, now they could not see each other.

He heard a rustle, so soft it was nearly unnoticeble, and he turned, pointing his gun at the office doors. He saw a slender figure slipping out, the gun obvious in his hand. He didn't hesitate, pulling the trigger.

_Bang._

He missed, the shot clanging off the steel doors. The figure broke into a run, heading for the lifts. Grimmjaw cursed and ran after him.

As he ran, he could see that something was flapping wildly around the gunman's legs, from his waist to his knees. He was momentarily surprised,wondering what was it. Then he pushed it out of his mind and put on a burst of speed.

Unfortunately, he was not in time. With perfect timing, the doors of the lift clanged open and the man ran into it, slamming his hand onto the buttons to close the doors. Before the doors closed, Grimmjaw could see that the figure was wearing... boots. High-heeled boots. What was this guy, a tranvestite?

He slammed his fist into the elevator doors and swore.

* * *

There was nothing else to find, and although he raced down to the lobby as fast as he could, he could find no trace of the wannabe assassin. Slightly dejected, he decided to walk to his sister's house.

Neliel Tu Oderschvank was a beautiful young woman, three years Grimmjaw's junior. She was a factor in Grimmjaw's decision to join the secret corps, because Aizen had threatened to harm her if he did otherwise. She lived in Karakura, and Grimmjaw visited her as often as he could.

On the way over, Grimmjaw mulled about his 'career'. It was no secret that despite the public show of kindliness and forgiveness, Aizen did not like him(or Ulquiorra, for that matter). Particularly after what he had done to him...

"Hey mister! Mister!"

He jerked, realizing that he was there already. He looked at the little boy tugging on his pants and frowned. "What it is?"

"Look, mister? There's some kind of funny water in the drain..."

"Yeah, yeah," Grimmjaw said impatiently. "Look, kid, I'm in a rush here. Why in the devil's name are you out so late?"

"My mom's going for a walk with her boyfriend. We live next door."

"Che," he muttered under his breath. He walked away, leaving the kid to stare in the drain at whatever filth was flowing through it. He did not care to see the leftovers of someone's dinner and soap suds. Or the kid either.

He opened the gate and went in, careful to be quiet. If she was sleeping, he would just leave a note, grab a snack and go. Her work as a model was tiring, as her photoshoots sometimes went from morning to night without pause.

He went into the living room and heard the faint sound of water flowing. Was she taking a bath in the middle of the night?

Going upstairs, he decided that yes, she must be. The sound was coming from her bathroom and he went in, intending to startle her. Nel hated it when he disturbed her in the bathroom, saying it was undecent for a brother to do so, but honestly Grimmjaw didn't care. She was his sister, and she was pretty. Why couldn't he see it?

"Hi, Nel!" he said loudly, opening the door. "Nel, it's..."

* * *

Outside, the kid staring at the pretty red water flowing in the drain almost screamed at the inhuman howl coming from the house.

* * *

"And now," _Thud._

"Ichigo!" Rukia cried out. "You've made a mess!"

"Uh, sorry," he mumbled. A sudden chill had ran through him, making him jerked so violently he had knocked his water glass over. Another chill ran through him again and he shivered violently.

"Kurosaki, are you all right?" Ukitate looked at him anxiously.

"I'm fine," he smiled at them. "Must be getting a cold."

Byakuya stared at him darkly, then glanced at everyone scrambling to rescue their laptops and papers from the water spreading on the table. On the wall, Yamamoto's projected image glared down at them.

"Please continue, Yamamoto-san," Ukitate said hastily. "Don't worry about us."

"As I was _saying," _Yamamoto looked pointedly at Ichigo, "You will have to execute any more missions that involve political figures."

Ichigo, who had drinking his water, choked. "Why?" he spluttered.

"Because now the goverment is combing the city for the assassin who killed Wang Fei, and it is your vague particulars that they know. I will not expose anyone else to danger when the city is so closely guarded. It will not do for them to know that an entire organization is behind the assassinations."

_So I'm the sacrifice, _Ichigo thought. Rukia looked stunned. They all knew what Yamamoto was implying - that in the case of discovery by the government, Yamamoto would rather Ichigo be killed alone than to endanger anyone else.

"Besides that-" Someone knocked on the door. Everyone turned around.

Inoue peeped shyly around the door. "Um, hey..." she said hesitantly. "I'm, uh, I'm sorry I'm late..."

"Come in, Orihime-san," said Byakuya. "Quickly." She obeyed, walking in quickly, her high heels clacking on the polished marble floor. She sat opposite Ichigo and smiled at him.

"So, Kurosaki-san, you will be paid half of what Yoshino is paying the organization in installments. In the case of your...untimely demise while performing your duty-"

This time it was Inoue who choked, spraying water over everybody near her. "What?" she spluttered.

Yamamoto's glare was murderous this time. "Uh, nothing, Yamamoto-san," the girl stammered. "It's... It's a wonderful plan!"

"Indeed," he said, still glaring. "Your family will receive compensation for the rest of their lives, as much as three hundred thousand yen a month. Is this satisfactory?" Without waiting for an answer, he nodded. "You will receive orders shortly. Now, let us move on to the next topic."

"You have all heard, at some point, about the secret government agents known as Aizen's secret corps." They all nodded. "We have reason to believe that they have been deployed to investigate this matter. As it is, Kurosaki-san is at the highest risk here. We must not, I repeat, we must not allow infiltrators into this organization. If anybody is applying for a position into senior management of this company, you must screen them carefully. Understand?" Agreeing murmurs ran around the room. "Masaki, please pass the list around."

A tall, beautiful woman with lustrous brown hair stood up and distributed sheets of paper to everyone. She smiled when she reached Ichigo, but he saw worry in her eyes. "Please be careful," she whispered. "I don't want three hundred thousand yen every month if it means losing you."

"Don't worry, Mom." He smiled reassuringly at her. She walked away and stood in front of the room. With a nod from Yamamoto, she began to speak.

"We have managed to compile a list of who we believe are the secret agents. There are only ten, but they are highly trained and all specialize in certain fields. Please look at the first page."

Masaki went through the entire list, but Ichigo didn't bother listening. He was feeling very tired. He'd go home, get some sleep and read the list, he decided.

"Now, you all know who we are dealing with." Yamamoto spoke again, and Ichigo looked up. "Exercise caution in every murder you have to execute. This meeting is adjourned."

* * *

Rukia caught him in the hallway. Before she could say anything, he shook his head. "I don't wanna talk about it."

She shrugged. "All right then. On more mundane matters, you'll have to train one of the newbies coming in tomorrow."

"Why?"

"Because everyone else is already training someone. I'm taking one of the newbies myself. Say yes, won't you?"

He sighed. "Alright. Who is it?"

"Um, hold on a sec." Rukia thought for a while, then smiled. "Ah. It's the one named Takashi."

* * *

Three miles away from the Kuchiki Tech headquarters, Grimmjaw Jeagerjaques stood on the roof of Karakura hospital and lit a cigarette. Tear tracks were faintly, just faintly visible under his eyes. "Don't die," he whispered desperately, quietly, over and over. "Don't die."

Nel had been stabbed multiple times in her stomach and left underneath the running shower. On the wall, her attacker had written a message with her blood. _Stay away. Do not find Wang Fei's murderer or it will be you in the bathtub._

Stay away, huh? Well, those goddamned bastards had another thing coming. He would find them and make them pay for hurting his little sister. Because now it wasn't about Aizen or Wang Fei or any political bullshit. This was personal.

He took a last drag and crushed the cigarette with his shoe, grounding it into the floor. _Yes, this was personal._

* * *

Three floors below, Neliel Tu Odershvank was fighting for her life in the OR. The surgeon on duty frowned at the limp body. "Poor girl," he said, his voice muffled by the face mask. "Assault?"

"I think so, doctor." The nurse placed the tray of sterilized equipment on the table. "You shouldn't delay. Her condition is serious. But don't worry, I'm sure you can do it."

Isshin Kurosaki reached for a scalpel and caressed the head of the limp figure softly. "I hope so."

* * *

At eight a.m the next morning, there was a loud knock on the glass door of Ichigo's office. "Come in," he called out, then coughed. His face was partially covered by a scarf and he had pulled a woolly hat onto his head, hiding his bright hair and pierced ear. He had gotten a cold after all last night. No matter. At last he wouldn't startle the newcomer with his punk-like appearance.

The person came in and Ichigo stared at the brightest blue hair he'd ever seen. _Well, at least I'm not the only one with the crazy hair colour now._

"Takashi," a husky, rough voice said. "Takashi Kyoyama." A hand was thrust out at him. Slowly, Ichigo stood up and took the offered hand, his hazel eyes meeting ice blue that seemed to be tinged with sadness. Fleetingly, he wondered why.

The hand was callused and warm, the handshake firm.

"I'm Kurosaki. Nice to meet you."

* * *

AN-In response to riekie, who reviewed first chapter, no, I did not get any inspiration fom Rush Hour 3. An interesting coincidence =]

Please, inform me if there are any spelling mistakes and I'll fix it ASAP. And BTW, I'm sitting for my exams so I'm afraid I won't be able to update for about a week or so. Sorry =[

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!


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